


coffee

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Falling In Love, Low Self-Esteem, Multi, Muteness, Past Rape/Non-con, Polyamory, Slow Burn, he just wants someone to care for him, jisoo doesn't have anorexia he just has no appetite, lapslock, more characters will be added to the tags as they appear, sad jisoo, selectively mute jisoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: jisoo is a broken mute who's a little lovesick. ultimately a story with no real point, just interludes of his life as he slowly falls in love with seungcheol & jeonghan.





	1. i'm alright

**Author's Note:**

> not sure what willed me to write this, but i'm just in a sad mood and this is just a sad story

there was a time, long ago, when jisoo felt safe; when the wind on his neck and the shouts of those on the streets spoke of security. now, all he hears is violence, all he sees is hurt — bar fights and heartbroken people, rain and more rain.

the park bench is cold, as is the air around him. little droplets of water from the sky splash onto his face and he sighs, closing his eyes and letting the world cry on him. after all, he’s cried enough on it.

he can feel his phone buzz is in his pocket and slowly fishes it out, seeing that hansol has texted him, wondering if he should bring food home. jisoo chews on his lip, hesitating — he hasn’t eaten in two days, but his appetite has diminished dramatically over the past few months. ultimately, he tells hansol that he’s already eaten, which is a blatant lie but not one that his friend needs to know.

carefully, he gets up, stretching his limbs and pulling his hood up. everything is a bit too cold; the wind, the rain, his hands and his face. he shivers slightly and begins to walk, not sure exactly where his destination is, but it’s sunday and he has nothing to do, so he finds himself not really caring.

eventually, he finds a small coffeeshop, nestled in between a used bookstore and a worn down cd store. there are fairy lights outside, glistening in the mist, and folded chairs leaning against the windows. when he enters, it smells like fresh bread and pastries, like roasted coffee beans and candle wax. he smiles.

the barista is a man with bleached hair, wavy and framing an oval face. his eyes are soft as he sets some cookies into the display case, and he smiles invitingly at jisoo when he enters, waving slightly before walking to the cash register.

“what can i get for you today?” he asks, voice smooth, like honey. he smells like honey, too — sugary sweet but not overly so, like baked goods and herbal tea.

jisoo fishes a piece of paper and a pen out of his coat pocket and writes down, _medium coffee, black._ the barista furrows his eyebrows at this but doesn’t say anything, just smiling brightly and nodding before telling him the price. jisoo hands over what little coins he has and leans against the counter, waiting for his coffee.

it only takes a minute before it’s being slid over to him. he bows and takes it, sipping the bitter beverage as he exits. home is a good twenty minutes away but he walks, one hand stuffed into his pocket as the other holds the coffee, warming it. when he gets back to his flat, hansol is there, idly texting on the couch while seungkwan sits next to him, flipping through tv channels.

hansol looks up and smiles, waving. _there’s some food in the kitchen, if you’d like,_ he signs, _i know you said no, but you really need to eat more._

jisoo signs a quick thank you, but doesn’t go to fetch any. seungkwan looks up at him and smiles, “hey, jisoo — how’s school going?”

a robotic voice answers from his phone after he writes it. “good, but hectic. calming down.”

“that’s good,” the younger man says as hansol stretches over his lap. he begins to massage his scalp with one hand, the other still on the remote.

jisoo bites his lip and looks down, a small, longing seed planting itself in his chest. all of his friends are in relationships, whether it be with each other or someone else, and whenever he sees the open displays of affection, the absolute _love_ they have for each other, it leaves him feeling down. it’s been five years since he’s had any sort of relationship, five years since he was left bruised and battered in a flat, five years since the court hearing, five years since his voice began to fail. seeing happy couples just makes him want, want so badly something soft, something sweet. but no one wants him.

he drags himself over to his bedroom, throwing the empty styrofoam cup out on the way. maybe he should just get some sleep.


	2. selfish disappointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jisoo feels a bit heartbroken over nothing in particular

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back at it again with a new chapter one hour after the last one was posted

two advils don’t cure the ache in jisoo’s heart when he wakes up. he makes a big cup of coffee, makes another for hansol, and another for seungkwan, because he knows they’re both in hansol’s room. everything feels a bit heavy, a bit in slow-motion as he sips the scalding liquid and sets the mug down, moving to collect his books.

his bag weighs down on his shoulder and when he takes it off momentarily, he can see a bruise blossoming where the strap was. he takes a big gulp of air before shaking his head, placing it on the other shoulder and leaving, heading towards the university.

literature goes by in a slow haze. he can see the professor talking, waving his hands around as he explains, but all the words seem to go through one ear and out the other. nestling his head in his arms, he slowly drifts to sleep before the bell wakes him, and then he’s gone, off to his next class.

his body feels slow despite the cup of coffee in the morning and he decides that maybe he should get another. all the coffeeshops on the campus are overpriced, five dollars for a small, and he chews on his nail before remembering the café from the previous day. he smiles slightly at the thought of the barista, the one with soft edges and a melodic voice.

mind made up and with one hour before his next class, he heads down the street, a deep-voiced woman crooning in his ear about heartache and broken trust. he relates to her more than he’d like to admit.

the café has a few people, all sitting in armchairs and sipping coffee, reading books or typing away on their laptops. he makes his way to the cash register and the same barista greets him with a smile.

“the same as yesterday?” he asks, lullaby voice filling his ears. jisoo nods.

it takes a bit longer for the coffee this time, but he doesn’t mind, idly looking around. there are shelves of books high up on the wall, a warm light bathing all of them from the worn lamps spread around. the floor is wooden, a deep mahogany, and there are small tables balancing on old legs, old armchairs and sofas. the whole place has a very homey feel and jisoo wonders if it’s family-run, if this barista is the son of a little old lady with thick arms who bakes all day. he finds himself wanting to know.

“are you a student?” the barista asks as they exchange goods; him giving jisoo the coffee, jisoo handing him more coins.

he nods, running his fingers through his hair before flipping his notepad and open and writing with scrawled penmanship, _literature major._

the barista smiles wide. “oh! that’s so cool. i’ve always wanted to go to university — my boyfriend is there, he studies chemistry.” at jisoo’s wrinkled nose, he reassures, “i know, it’s boring. i always wonder what makes him take it.”

but jisoo’s nose isn’t wrinkled because of that, it’s because of the fact that this barista, with his honey voice and gleaming smile, has a boyfriend. of course he does. a person as beautiful as him has to be taken — he probably has someone strong, someone attractive, someone who can take care of him, someone who can talk. all things jisoo isn’t and can’t do.

he takes his coffee and waves at the barista, the heavy feeling returning to his chest. maybe he’ll skip the rest of the day.

/

jisoo ends up spending the rest of the day curled up on the couch, watching sad movies on the television, his hands wrapping themselves around more cups of coffee. he puts a teaspoon of sugar in one of them but his body ends up rejecting it, and he finds himself kneeled over the toilet, only liquid coming up. he really should eat — maybe tomorrow.

hansol comes home in the evening with seungkwan, mingyu and wonwoo trailing behind them. hansol’s eyebrows knit together when he sees jisoo on the couch, and he taps on his shoulder before signing, _did you go to class?_ with a worried expression.

jisoo chews on his lip as he signs back, _one. felt sick and came home afterwards._

still looking worried, hansol turns to seungkwan and says, “he’s feeling sick. didn’t go to class. i think i’m gonna make him some soup.”

seungkwan nods, casting a concerned look over his shoulder as he follows hansol to the kitchen. mingyu and wonwoo plop down next to him, hands interlocked. the former looks at him with a smile, _how are you?_

 _good,_ jisoo signs, sinking further into the cushions and bringing his blanket up to his neck, _feel a bit sick. nothing to worry about._

wonwoo raises his eyebrows, _you’ve been feeling sick a lot lately, jisoo. are you sure nothing is wrong? we could always take you to a doctor — there’s one on campus that’s free._

jisoo shakes his head, quickly signing, _it’s nothing,_ before directing his attention back to the tv. he can see wonwoo and mingyu exchange glances in the corner of his eyes but doesn’t react, instead focusing on the characters, so in love on the screen that it hurts.

he had met wonwoo awhile ago, back in his first year of university — he had gone to so much effort to learn sign language just for jisoo that it made the latter’s heart hurt a bit. he really doesn't deserve someone like that. mingyu had come around a couple months later, wonwoo introducing him as his boyfriend, and he had surprisingly already known sign language, due to having a deaf-mute grandmother. both of them had quickly settled into jisoo’s life, a warm presence always by his side. he is eternally grateful.

hansol brings him chicken soup but he barely touches it, only sipping the broth. after awhile, he disappears back into his room, landing face-first on the covers before moving to wrap them around his body.

he knows his friends love him, but he really just wants something romantic. he shakes his head, _selfish thoughts._ he’s not good enough for any of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated, but not a necessity :^) hope you all have a great day!


	3. angel, devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is surprisingly easy for me to write. most likely because it doesn't really have a plot, it's mostly just a sappy love story -- or maybe it's just my mood. i'm feeling oddly melancholic, listening to this soft saxophone music. i kind of love it when i feel like this

the next week passes in a tired haze, everything feeling a bit too surreal, a bit too dreamy. objects fade together in front of his eyes, word melt in his ears; jisoo wonders if he’s losing it.

he visits the café sometimes, listening to the barista — who now has a name, jeonghan — go on about whatever is on his mind that day. he doesn’t mind, though — he’s a good listener. and despite jeonghan having a boyfriend, having someone better than jisoo, he still hangs around because frankly, he’s a bit lonely.

“my boyfriend told me that you guys are in the same theory class,” jeonghan says one day. the coffeeshop is empty except for them, and jisoo has melted into an armchair while jeonghan sits on the sofa next to him, slowly eating a cinnamon roll. “his name’s seungcheol, maybe you know him?”

and jisoo does know him, knows _exactly_ who he’s talking about because seungcheol is perhaps one of the most popular people on the entire campus, always surrounded by a flock of friends. a calm feeling of understanding settles into his chest as he realises that jeonghan and seungcheol make a perfect couple, the two both being unfairly attractive — too unfairly attractive, too good for jisoo. he knows that he can long and long for as long as he wants, but ultimately will never end up with either of them. this leaves him feeling melancholic, but vaguely content.

he nods, though, and writes hastily, _i think everyone knows him that goes to the university._

jeonghan lets out a laugh at that, curling his knees up to his chest and nodding. “yeah, seungcheol’s like that. too popular for his own good.” he lets out a sigh and takes a sip of his coffee, obviously a little entranced by his boyfriend; jisoo plays with his fingers; the doorbell chimes, announcing a customer’s entrance; jeonghan offers him a smile, “see you tomorrow?”

jisoo nods as the other man scatters off to the register, though he’s not sure if he’ll come back. he is lonely, yes, but the reminder of jeonghan and seungcheol sends a sharp pain down his chest whenever he thinks of them. maybe he can find someone else.

/

he does find someone else, with curves and a glassy smile. her name is whiskey and he drinks her down in long gulps; the bartender looks at him worriedly.

he had forgotten about his teenage habits, about the way his fingers would dance along the panels of his parents’ cabinet, pick the lock with one of his sister’s bobby pins and dangerously pick out one of the bottles. usually it would be rum, or bourbon — something warm to heat his soul. but now he’s reignited that lost flame, a part of him hating how good it feels.

someone sits next to him heavily, but he doesn’t bother to look at them, only staring at the small glass in front of him filled now with only ice. he waves a finger lazily and the bartender pours him another. he sips on it before turning his head to the left, eyes widening a bit when he sees the familiar figure next to him, black hair matted against his forehead, a leather jacket pulled around his muscular frame, a grey scarf lazily swung over one shoulder.

said figure turns to look at him, eyebrows raising. “hong jisoo,” he says. jisoo has never heard him speak, the sounds of him in the corridors usually drowned out by whoever is around him. his voice is the opposite of jeonghan’s, rougher on the edges, throaty like a smoker’s. “jeonghan’s told me a lot about you. never expected you to be a drinker.”

jisoo nods, because he’s not sure what else he can do, his fingers too shaky to write or type something. seungcheol smiles a bit, his canines poking out — he looks a bit like a wolf. but jisoo doesn’t feel intimidated, there might be something harsh about his exterior, about the way he dresses or the motorcycle outside, but his voice isn’t dangerous.

seungcheol tilts his head and studies him with dark eyes; jisoo’s too drunk to feel self-conscious. “it’s late,” he says, “and we both have class in the morning," he pauses, taking a swig from the drink set in front of him. “you should go home, sleep.”

jisoo shrugs, looking down at his hands, the melancholic feeling settling once again heavily in his heart. he had been avoiding jeonghan, getting his coffee from the overpriced places instead — he hadn’t thought to avoid seungcheol, considering he’d never talked to him, just ducking out of the way if he saw him coming down the halls. but now the man is next to him, and he suddenly wishes that he could melt into his stool, becoming part of the screws and wood.

“oh, yeah,” seungcheol says, chuckling, “forgot you can’t talk.” he gets up, stretching his arms before smiling at jisoo, offering a hand. “c’mon, i’ll drive you home.”

jisoo stares at the outstretched hand, blinking, before looking up at seungcheol, a bit lost. he’s never talked to him before, and now he’s offering a ride home? what the hell had jeonghan said about him?

a part of him wonders if jeonghan had said terrible things, and now seungcheol is going to purposely crash his motorcycle, or take jisoo off to an alley where he’d be stabbed. but the man’s softened eyebrows and tone say otherwise.

he takes the hand hesitantly, quickly paying the bartender before scurrying after seungcheol, who’s now sitting on his motorcycle, helmet on with another held out to him. he grabs it carefully and situates it over his head, shakily grabbing a folded up piece of paper that he keeps in the inside of his coat and showing it to seungcheol. it’s his address, and the other man nods — the next thing he knows he’s being whisked away, the cold air numbing his ears as they drive off.

it doesn’t take long before they’ve pulled in front of his flat’s building. he takes off his helmet, handing it to seungcheol before standing up on shaky legs. he rubs a hand over his heart, hoping the other knows what it means. he seems to, and smiles, “no problem, hong jisoo.”

and with that, he’s gone, speeding off into the distance, leaving jisoo staring after him, unsure of what to make of everything.

he shakes his head and heads into the building, hands stuffed into his pockets and head low. a kind gesture, that’s all that it had been.

he falls asleep that night with thoughts of an angel and a devil, intertwined and reaching out their hands. they call him their middle, their sweet mortal. maybe it’s just the alcohol talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't plan on making jisoo a drinker, it just seemed to be a good opportunity. plus, in my writing, someone always has to be an alcoholic -- characters reflect writers, right?

**Author's Note:**

> leave comments if you'd like, they always make me smile, but of course you don't have to -- feedback would be nice, also just ... ideas on where this is to go, because i really have no idea.


End file.
